Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 88551 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 443(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88551 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 443(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
Blotches of blood explode on her feet, soaking the ivory satin ballerina shoes.
I gasp. “Hey, stop!”
She doesn’t. Her movements turn frantic, severe, and out of control. Blood mars both her feet, but it’s like she doesn’t feel the pain as she stands on pointe over and over again.
“Stop…” I sob over the loud music. “Stop it!”
She twirls away from me, her head tilting in irregular positions before it moves back into place.
Blood splashes on her fair skin and leaves stains all over the carpet.
I want to run to her, hold her, and make her put an end to this, but my feet won’t move. The marionette strings are keeping me in place and I’m unable to reach behind me and cut them.
“Stop it!” My voice is hysterical, on the verge of something even I don’t recognize.
She comes to a halt on pointe and turns to face me while still in that position.
My lips part at seeing her.
It’s me.
Or a close replica to me, anyway.
The face under the veil is the spitting image of mine. Bloody tears stream down her cheeks, leaving patches of red on her veil and her dress.
“Did you stop?” she whispers.
A sickening crack of bones echoes in the air and her legs give out from underneath her.
“Nooooo!” I shriek.
I sprint toward her, but I’m yanked back by the marionette strings attached to my nape.
My eyes shoot open and I gasp with a sob.
For a second, I think I’m going to find myself in the midst of the blood, or that I’ll witness the break in her legs—the protruding bones or the bloodied, broken skin.
Instead, I’m in Jeremy’s bed, arms wrapped around his small body as he snuggles into me.
No music blares outside and nothing disturbs the peace.
A long breath leaves my lungs as I murmur, “It wasn’t real. None of it was.”
“What wasn’t?”
I squeal at the calm voice coming from behind me and slowly turn my head, my fingers still shaking, but I don’t release Jeremy. Ever since I hugged him this morning, I’ve been having this morbid need to protect him, thinking that if I fail to do so, it’ll be like losing my baby girl all over again.
Adrian sits in the dimly-lit room. Only the light from the phone that’s nestled between his long fingers is a break in the black. It could be because of the shadow the screen projects on his face, but he appears scarier now. No light present in his darkness. No escape. No reprieve.
He’s like a dark lord sitting on his throne.
A devil.
A monster.
A villain.
The innate need to run that I’ve felt ever since I stepped foot in this house—hell, since I first met him—strikes me again.
“You didn’t answer my question, Lia,” he reminds me ever so casually. Or what appears as casual, because it’s feigned. I can almost hear his actual tone, which is closed off, harsh, and is sucking on the essence of my soul.
Everything about him is sharp and has an edge. The top buttons of his shirt are undone, revealing a hint of his powerful chest. He’s half-relaxing in his seat with his long legs crossed at the ankles. Half, because his posture is still upright and he looks like he’s ready to pounce any second if he feels the need to.
How long has he been sitting in the shadows, anyway?
And why the hell am I having one nightmare after another ever since he brought me here?
“Lia.” The single word holds more warning than should be possible.
“You don’t need to know.” I slowly sit up, gently peeling Jeremy’s fingers from around my waist. He mumbles something in his sleep, and I brush his dark hair as I tuck him under the covers that are decorated with spaceships and stars.
“That’s two punishments.”
My head jerks up to face Adrian. “But…for what?”
“One for not learning the list Ogla gave you and the second for now.”
I knew Ogla was his damn spy. “But I didn’t talk back just now.”
“Defying me is equivalent to talking back. Not answering my questions warrants punishment, too.”
“Maybe you should make me a fucking list like the mafia one so I can learn it and magically tiptoe around it.”
“And that’s three.”
“You can’t be fucking serious.”
“Perfectly am. Four.”
“I’m not allowed to talk at all?” I snap.
“Not in that tone, no. Five.”
“Just stop it, already, and admit that you’re a sick bastard who gets off on spanking me.”
“Six.”
I open my mouth to say something, but soon seal it shut, realizing that whatever I say will only worsen my state.
Damn him.
He rattles me so much that I keep playing into his hands and digging myself into a hole with him. The visceral nightmare I just experienced isn’t helping either. Ever since I woke up, I’ve been jumpy and disoriented, having little to no control over my reactions.
“Go on, Lia.” Adrian’s calm yet threatening tone resonates in the air. “I’m very interested to see how far the number can go up.”